


Blackbird

by flibbertygigget



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Asexuality, F/F, Oh hey look I write about my feelings, Or at least what my feelings were in high school..., Religion, Sex-Repulsed Asexuality, Unhealthy Sexual Attitudes, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliza looks at Maria's purity ring, at her own black ring, and realizes that this is impossible in so, so many ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackbird

The first thing that Eliza noticed about the new girl in school was her fingernails.

It seemed like a stupid thing to notice in retrospect, but Eliza couldn't help it. Maria's fingernails were perfect, manicured and painted a deep red that exactly matched the loose dress she wore. Eliza looked down at her own bitten nails and ratty blue t-shirt, and she almost hated herself before remembering that she and the angel in front of her would never have had a chance.

The second thing that Eliza noticed about Maria Reynolds only served to make the conclusion that her stupid little crush was doomed all the more obvious. On Maria's left ring finger was a ring. It wasn't a wedding ring - that would have been weird for a junior in high school - but it was just as damning. It was a purity ring, a little halo of silver with a dove cut out of it, and Eliza hated it even as she twisted her own ring around her left middle finger.

Angelica had gotten the asexual pride ring for her when she finally came out to her family. In truth, Eliza didn't know whether their acceptance was really acceptance or just... relief, maybe. She had overheard her father talking to her uncle on the phone about it, calling her sexuality a "gift from God." Eliza hated it, but she wore the ring. Better to be able to warn people away easily than to lead people on. The black band worked better than any purity ring to keep potential boyfriends and girlfriends away.

Even though she knew it was impossible, Eliza couldn't keep herself from watching Maria whenever she walked into the room. Maria was beautiful, intoxicating. Everything from the way she gestured when she got excited about something to the tone of her voice when she teased people about their crushes was perfect, or at least it was in Eliza's mind. Eliza didn't want to have sex with her, at least she didn't think she did, but she wanted... God, she wanted to be by her side every moment, to be able to drink in her presence, to be able to touch her, hold her hand.

It was all impossible in so, so many ways.

Sometimes Eliza would be tempted to grab Maria's hand and fling away her ring, both of their rings. Then there would be no more purity, no more hesitation because of things they couldn't or didn't want, just them. Eliza thought that she could learn to want sex, if Maria wanted it. She would do anything to be by Maria's side. But, no, there was still that damned purity ring, always present, always a reminder that, no matter how similar she and Maria were, there was always that fundamental difference.

Eliza couldn't desire sex. Maria refused to. And that made all the difference.

Because Eliza knew that, at least for her, love and sex were mutually exclusive, but for Maria, as for most people in Eliza's experience, they were one and the same. There was no way that Eliza could go up to Maria and say that she wanted to date her without implying things that Maria believed were wrong, just as there was no way for Maria to love her without wanting things that Eliza was incapable of wanting.

And so Eliza had to move on, even though it was impossible. She would ignore her wanting, even though her heart and soul were on fire, even though she felt butterflies every time that Maria looked at her. There was nothing to do but abandon the idea of love, because love could never become more than another half-imagined fantasy.


End file.
